The passageway led into a great cavern with ornate columns rising from floor to ceiling. The light of the wizard's staff was not enough to shine upon the detail and design that was within the dwarven city. Aeardis reached deftly out to her side until she found Boromir's hand. She grasped it feebly and he understood the wonder in her eyes. Both she and his brother had marveled at the tales from Moria and the Noldorian Elves, seeing this with her own eyes was a culmination of nigh forty years.
Following Gandalf's lead, the Company passed under the northern arch, following the sliver of light that shone in the darkness. As they went along it the glimmer grew stronger, and they saw that it came through a doorway on their right. It was high and flat-topped, and the stone door was still upon its hinges, standing half open. Beyond it was a large square chamber. It was dimly lit, but to their eyes, after so long a time in the dark, it seemed dazzlingly bright, and they blinked as they entered.
Their feet disturbed a deep dust upon the floor and stumbled among things lying in the doorway whose shapes they could not at first make out. The chamber was lit by a wide shaft high in the further eastern wall; it slanted upwards and, far above, a small square patch of blue sky could be seen. The light of the shaft fell directly on a table in the middle of the room: a single oblong block, about two feet high, upon which was laid a great slab of white stone. Aeardis felt her throat tighten when Gimli cried out, it was a tomb. "Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria," read the runes.
The dwarf fell to his knees, openly mourning. Aeardis stepped toward him, hesitant, but laid her hand upon his armored shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Gimli."
At length, they stirred and looked up, and began to search for anything that would give them tidings of Balin's fate, or show what had become of his kin. There was another smaller door on the other side of the chamber. By both the doors they could now see that many bones were lying scattered about, and among them were broken swords and axe-heads, and cloven shields and helms. Some of the swords were crooked, orc-scimitars with blackened blades, then there were crude arrows with crooked blunt tips of goblin make no doubt.
Among the remains was a book that had been slashed and stabbed at, it was so stained with black and other dark marks like old blood that little of it could be read. The wizard picked it up, carefully, and flipped to the last page of legible writing. Then he began to read: "The Watcher in the Water took Óin. We cannot get out. The end comes, and then drums... drums in the deep. The last thing that was written is in a trailing scrawl of elf-letters: they are coming. There is nothing more." Gandalf paused, closed the worn book and stood in silent thought. The sudden dread and horror of the chamber fell over the Company.
Aeardis looked up at the wizard, feeling like a small frightened child next to him, "Gandalf, we need to leave." She said in a grave tone. Something was not right, there was something amiss though she could not yet name what it was.
"Quite right, my dear." Gandalf had hardly spoken those words when there came a great noise. A rolling boom that seemed to come from depths far below, and trembled in the stone at their feet. They sprang towards the door in alarm. Doom, doom it rolled again as if huge hands were turning the very caverns of Moria into a vast drum. Then there came an echoing blast. A great horn was blown in the hall, and answering horns and harsh cries were heard further off. There was a hurrying sound of many feet.
Boromir darted toward the great doors and heaved them closed, barring them with a great piece of wood and the swords and spears of the fallen. "They have a cave troll," he muttered. Aeardis reached for her sword, only to remember that it was gone, lost to the lake and the Watcher in the Water. Panic crept over her but stilled when she remembered the finely crafted blade that had been gifted to her before departing Rivendell. Fairy Steel had been what Arethusa named it. She wrapped her fingers around the hilt and ushered all four hobbits back into the cavernous room.
Aragorn and Legolas had their bows drawn, and Boromir stood with his sword and shield at the ready. There was a moment's silence, thick and heavy, it was the deep breath before the plunge. The doors surged inward at a great weight pushing against them. Aeardis tightened her grip on the hilt and looked back to see each of the hobbit's had their own small swords drawn. The doors shook again, and again, and at last, they had been battered down. In flooded the disfigured and maimed creations of Morgoth.
Aeardis desperately wished for the reach of her sword when she drove the blade of the fairy knife into an orc's neck, She kept the hobbits behind her, taking the brute of those who made it past the others. Aragorn looked over to the door as the cave troll, entered, a broken chain around his neck, bashing the walls with his fists. It roared and the sound came out as broken black speech, deafening. Legolas fired an arrow into its chest, though that hardly seemed to faze it.
It saw Sam and raised its club above his head to smite him, but the hobbit dove between the troll's legs, though not quick enough to make the beast forget about him. "Sam!" Aeardis screamed for the hobbit to run, but Aragorn and Boromir had already taken hold of the chains around its neck and pulled it backward. She turned on heel and drove the dagger beneath the arm of a goblin, it screeched and clawed at her leather armor until she wrenched the blade free and dark, black blood gushed from the wound.
Her eyes widened when an orc approached Boromir, scimitar drawn for the kill. Aeardis looked down at the blade in her hand, weighed it for a brief second, then threw it with all her might. It hit the orc's neck, but she did not have time to see that, as she caught another orc's arm mid-swing, ripping away its crude sword.
"Frodo, Merry, Pippin!" She called, having lost sight of them in the chaos, but after a moment the three of them scrambled over to her side. Aeardis pointed up at the ledge that ringed the walls of the room and to the pillars which they could hide behind. The three hobbits scrambled up the debris, away from the battle and the cave troll, hiding behind stone pillars. She breathed a sigh of relief until the rancid scent of the troll's breath filled the air next to her.
Carefully she and Frodo sidled around the pillar, and back again once more. Suddenly, its hideous head appeared and both she and the Ringbearer stumbled back. It had taken Frodo before she could scramble back to her feet. The hobbit cried out. Aeardis frantically searched her person for another dagger or something to make the troll release Frodo. Yet by the time she was able to drop down from the ledge it was too late. The troll had impaled him with a thick stake.
She felt sick as Merry and Pippin cried out, jumping at the beast with their small swords drawn. Aeardis dropped to her knees next to the unmoving hobbit and land her hand on his shoulder, there was a tightness in her chest and throat. There was a great thud as the troll fell to the floor, dead at last. Aragorn knelt next to Frodo too, but he dared to turn the hobbit over and when he did, Frodo gasped and groaned, clutching at his chest. Relief swept over Aeardis and she stood to make way for Sam. It was a coat of mithril rings that had saved the hobbit from an early doom.
Gandalf looked around worriedly, there was an awful screeching behind them and shadows approaching from all sides. He ushered everyone to their feet and raced from the chamber. The others followed, but Gimli had to be dragged away by Legolas; in spite of the peril, he lingered by Balin's now destroyed tomb with his head bowed.
Before them was another cavernous hall. It was loftier and far longer than the one in which they had passed through prior. They were near its eastern end; westward it ran away into darkness. Down the center stalked a double line of towering pillars. They were carved like boles of mighty trees whose boughs upheld the roof with a branching tracery of stone. Their stems were smooth and black, but a red glow was darkly mirrored in their sides.
Their rushed haste came to a stop when both goblins and orcs descended upon them, surrounding them on all sides. Aeardis swallowed and watched Gandalf bow his head, whether it was to think or was in resignation she could not tell. But then the sound of the echoing drum started again and grew louder and the air grew hotter. Just as quickly as the dark creatures had surrounded them, they were fleeing from something much more terrible.
Boromir turned, back to look at the fierce red glow that emanated at the far side of the hall. "What new devilry is this?" No one could offer a response.
"Run!" the wizard commanded, but none of the company could move their feet. "Do as I say!" said Gandalf fiercely. "Swords are no more use here. Go!" The passage was lit by no shaft and was utterly dark. They groped their way down a long flight of steps, and then looked back; but they could see nothing, except high above them the faint glimmer of the wizard's staff. Soon though, the wizard had rejoined them, racing toward the bridge with Durin's Bane rising from the depths of the mines.
The drums still sounded, steady and fearsome. The stone beneath their feet began to crack and crumble. Aeardis halted as the stairs crumbled even further, the gap between her and Boromir growing larger. He had taken Merry and Pippin across safely but now he held his arms out beckoning her to make the leap, "Jump! I will catch you." The roars and heat of the Balrog grew closer. Aragorn nodded at her and picked up Frodo. "Aeardis, you must jump," Boromir pleaded with voice and eyes. An arrow sang in the air as it passed her ear.
She took several steps back then rushed forward, pushing herself up in the air with nothing below. Her feet touched stone after maddening long seconds of just hanging in the air, unsure if she would make it or fall into the darkness below. Aragorn and Frodo had made it safely across too. Aeardis smiled at Boromir and took his outstretched hand but that was when the next crack had begun in the crumbling stair on which she stood.
She screamed when the stone gave way, falling, but Boromir still had her wrist within his grasp. She slammed into the side of the stairs and dangled on the edge of the abyss with her eyes squeezed shut. "Give me your other hand!" Aeardis reached up, her hand struggling to find purchase on his blood-slickened glove, in haste, he pulled it off with his teeth and let it fall into the dark depths.
More of the staircase gave away and she dropped down another foot, crying as she felt her grip slipping. For a moment, she thought he would fall too, but Gimli and Aragorn had gripped onto him. She threw up her dangling arm and Boromir caught her wrist and began pulling her back up. He pulled her upward, back onto the staircase and atop him.
Aeardis lay on his heaving chest, shaking, "I –I thought you were going to drop me for a moment there." His arms went around her and held her tight as if it were the last time he would feel her against him. Her hands deftly grasped the soft tunic beneath his surcoat. "Never," he murmured in response and then he stood with Aeardis in his arms despite her pleas that she be put down.
Gandalf ushered the fellowship forward. "Come, the bridge is near, make haste." The Bridge of Khazad-dûm lay not even five hundred feet to their right, and above was the staircase leading out of the dwarven kingdom. The outer door could only be reached by a slender bridge of stone, without curb or rail, that spanned the chasm with one curving spring of fifty feet. It was an ancient defense of the Dwarves against any enemy that might capture the First Hall and the outer passages. They could only pass across it in single file. At the brink, Gandalf halted and the others came up in a pack behind, he began ushered them over.
Everyone but Gandalf had crossed, the Wizard halted halfway, sword and staff at the ready. "Mithrandir!" Aeardis shouted, there was still time, they could all make it.
Then from the chasm below emerged an ancient and powerful enemy. The flames roared up to greet the Balrog and wreathed about it, and a black smoke swirled in the air. Its streaming mane kindled and blazed behind it. In its right hand was a blade like a stabbing tongue of fire; in its left, it held a whip of many thongs.
Gandalf stood in the middle of the span, leaning on the staff in his left hand, but in his other hand, Glamdring gleamed, cold and white. His enemy halted again, facing him, and the shadow about it reached out like two vast wings. It raised the whip, and the thongs whined and cracked. Fire came from its nostrils. But Gandalf stood firm. "You cannot pass," he said. The orcs stood still, and a dead silence fell. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass."
The Balrog made no answer. The fire in it seemed to die, but the darkness grew. It stepped forward slowly onto the bridge, and suddenly it drew itself up to a great height, and its wings were spread from wall to wall, but still Gandalf could be seen, glimmering in the gloom; he seemed small, and altogether alone, grey and bent. From out of the shadow a red sword leaped flaming.
Glamdring glittered white in answer.
There was a ringing clash and a stab of white fire. The Balrog fell back and its sword flew up in molten fragments. The wizard swayed on the bridge, stepped back a pace, and then again stood still. "You shall not pass!" he said. With a great bound, the Balrog leaped full upon the bridge. Its whip whirled and hissed.
Gandalf lifted his staff, and crying aloud he smote the bridge before him. The bridge cracked. Right at the Balrog's feet, it broke, and the stone upon which it stood crashed into the chasm.
With a terrible cry, the Balrog fell forward, and its shadow plunged down and vanished. But even as it fell it swung its whip, and the thongs lashed and curled about the wizard's ankle, dragging him to the brink. He staggered and fell, grasped vainly at the stone, and slid into the abyss. "Fly, you fools!" he cried and then was gone.
They all stood rooted in horror for a moment, crying out after the wizard. Boromir wrapped his arm tightly around Frodo and held the hobbit back from racing forward. Then a rain of arrows began once more and it drew them all back to reality and the task at hand. They stumbled wildly up the great stairs beyond the door. Aragorn leading, Boromir at the rear.